


A Haunting in Salem

by DragonGirl420



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bi-Gender Relationships, Bisexual, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2020-07-20 14:51:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19994026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonGirl420/pseuds/DragonGirl420
Summary: Five years ago you quit hunting, and are now engaged to a beautiful and successful NYC Attorney, Raylin. A mysterious case file arrives at your home office, and you immediately know that it’s from your ex-boyfriend and hunting partner, Dean Winchester. It’s not just any case, it was your first case - the disappearance of her sister, Carly. Now, there’s activity again. Dean convinces you to help him out back in your hometown of Salem, posing as a honeymooning couple at the place where it all started, The Morning Glory Inn.





	A Haunting in Salem

**Author's Note:**

> This is part 1 of 2 written for multiple bingo cards that go for both chapters. Its the first thing I’ve written and published in about a month, so please be gentle. New tag lists are at the end of the fic. I have tag spots open, let me know if you want to jump on or off for SPN (Dean and/or Sam, or RPF for Jensen)  
> @spngenrebingo Square filled: The Ex (part 1)  
> @spndeanbingo Square filled: Case Fic (part 1)  
> @spnfluffbingo2019 Square filled: Bed Sharing (part 2)

The envelope arrived by messenger sometime around noon on Monday, but it was well into the evening before you got around to opening it. Inside was a manilla folder that made your heart stop cold. Scribbled across the top was handwriting that was familiar and one you had not seen in at least five years. You didn’t even care that there wasn’t a name signed at the bottom; you knew exactly who it was from. 

_It started again. Thought you’d want to know._

You leaned back in your desk chair and held it in your hands for a while before you felt ready to open it. It wasn’t often the past came knocking, but whether you were ready or not, it was time to answer the door. 

Exhaling cautiously through shaky, pursed lips, you laid it flat and lightly ran your fingertips over the letters before flipping it open. Just as you suspected, it was a case file. You pulled the original envelope to the front and looked at the return address. It simply said, ‘Lebanon, Kansas’. 

_It couldn’t be_. Your throat went dry and your heart began to race. 

“Winchester,” you mumbled and sighed with defeat. “How the HELL did he find me?”

“You say something, babe?” Raylin asked from the kitchen, then peeked her head around the door and into your home office. “Were you calling me?”

“No,” you smiled sweetly at her as you casually covered the folder with the envelope. “Was just muttering to myself.”

“Well, don’t work too hard. Dinner will be ready in a few minutes. Hope you’re hungry. I made teriyaki.”

“I won’t, I promise. Just one more thing to read over. Then I’ll come set the table.”

“Alright,” Raylin smiled seductively, “just one more… then you’re mine for the night.” She raised her well-manicured brows suggestively. “Deal?”

“Yes, counselor,” you replied with a wink, hoping that your returned playfulness would cover the trembling you felt internally.

Raylin nodded in satisfaction and went back into the kitchen. You waited until she was out of sight and went back to the folder. 

Newspaper clippings, photographs, handwritten notes… everything your typical case file would contain. There wasn’t much time to go through everything right then, but from what you could see, this was a case file for a haunting. But not just any haunting; this one was from your hometown of Salem, Massachusetts.

“Dammit,” you muttered and raked your fingers through your hair. “Not again.”

Raylin prepared a delicious dinner, as she usually did, and carried on a lively retelling of her day in court. You listened and smiled, and reacted in all the right places; even managed to stay attentive and ask questions, too. Your mind, however, was back in the office with the folder that sat there, waiting.

Five years since you had a case file in hand but felt more like a lifetime ago. You’d left hunting behind, despite most hunters thinking it wasn’t possible. Five years in and so far you’d proved them wrong.

It hadn’t been an easy transition at first. You went somewhere that you thought you could get lost; where being a hunter, a spiller of blood and avenger of the innocent, wouldn’t find you. You had to find a nine to five job, learn your way around a new city, make new friends… then, maybe even try to find love again. It felt impossible, especially after what you had with the older Winchester brother, but in that time a brand new life fell into place. It just so happened to be one you loved. 

After dinner was cleared, you tried to put the folder, and case enclosed behind you. Doing your best to give your girlfriend all your attention, your mind betrayed you and continued to think about both that and Dean. Eventually, Raylin had you distracted enough to forget it all for a moment as she took you to bed. But when sleep finally came, it was plagued with nightmares and flashes of a life lived a long time ago. 

The next morning dawned bright, and as you began to wake from a fitful night’s sleep, you were assaulted with a spray of papers fluttering all over the bed.

“Morning,” Raylin said sharply. “Care to explain this now that you’re up?”

“What the Hell, Ray?” you groaned, sitting up on the bed and trying to focus on what just happened. As you came around to waking, you realized that the papers were from the case file. “Shit.”

“Yeah, shit. What the fuck? This again?”

“No, it’s not like that Ray…” you started, then rose from the bed and put on your robe lying on the chair beside the nightstand. “I got it in the mail yesterday, an old friend–”

“Him? You mean him… just say what it is, Y/N, its _HIM._ ”

“Yes, Jesus. It’s Dean, okay!?”

“And there it is… I thought this was done, that you moved on.” Raylin’s expression was cold and staunch. You could feel her anger rising, and knew that meant a fight was brewing.

“I didn’t want it. I didn’t seek it out. It came to me. Please, let’s not do this, okay? I don’t want to fight with you, Ray.”

“Fight? Who’s fighting? I’m not raising my voice. I simply went into the office to see what had you so distracted last night. And, to my surprise, look at what I find… “ she tilted her head to the side, her stern-lawyerly demeanor seeping through. “The past coming back to bite you in the ass. You promised.”

“I promised I wouldn’t go looking. I stopped scanning the papers, didn’t I? I haven’t even brought it up in a year, Ray. Why do you think I would suddenly go after a case? HE sent it to ME.”

“And how does he even know how to find you. I thought you didn’t talk anymore.”

“We don’t. I have not seen or heard from Dean Winchester since I left him in a diner outside of Omaha five years ago. Trust me, he had zero desire to chase me. He sent this because–”

“I don’t care,” she said straightening her spine and adjusting the lapels of her blazer. “I have to leave for court. I would prefer that not be in the house when I get home.”

“Jesus, Ray… this case… he sent it because it’s important. It’s the ONE he knew I wouldn’t be able to let go. But–”

“This obsession of yours is going to get you killed!”

“What do you want me to say!? She was my sister and she straight up disappeared! How can I just let that go!?”

Ray seemed uncaring and cold anytime you brought up your sister, but that wasn’t anything new. Regardless of knowing what happened, she liked to pretend it never did. Anytime you brought up Carly, Ray just went blank. She drew in a deep breath to steady her nerves, the corners of her mouth pulling down into a tight, unforgiving grin. 

“I don’t know, Y/N. You just do,” she said and sighed heavily.

Raylin turned on her heel and walked out of the room calmly, but you could hear the hard snap of her Jimmy Choos on the hardwood as it echoed down the hallway. When the front door slammed a moment later, you jumped at the sound then cursed under your breath. Rubbing your hands over your face, you turned back towards the bed and gathered up the papers one by one. 

You didn’t want to start actually looking at them, because you knew that you would end up looking at ALL of them. As quickly as you could, you gathered them and shoved them back into the envelope. Just as you were about to leave the room and go shred them in the office, a piece that you had missed caught your attention. It was on the floor on Raylin’s side of the bed. Something about it felt familiar as you bent down to retrieve it. Picking it up as if it were radioactive, you held it out in front of you, pinched between two fingers. You tilted your head slightly to read the headline that spanned across the small newspaper clipping.

**_Two More Mysterious Disappearances at Salem’s Historical Morning Glory Inn Has Locals Fearing the Worst_ **

“Shit,” you whispered as you felt your knees weaken. Grasping for the edge of the bed, you couldn’t deny your pull to the case. It wasn’t just because of your sister. Her disappearance from the Inn was one of many that Autumn so many years before. But it was also the case where your life as a hunter first started. It was where you first learned the truth about what went bump in the night, as well as where you first met Dean Winchester. 

“Shit, shit, shit… SHIT!” you yelled into the void of the room. “We fixed it… I know we fixed it. How is it starting again?”

An hour later, sitting in your home office and now fully ensconced in the case file. You read each clipping, studied every little scrap of paper and still couldn’t understand why the claims of hauntings and subsequent disappearances were happening again. The papers fell from your fingers, gliding down slowly to the desk. Your head fell into your hands, and you felt a rise of nausea in your gut. 

“How… how did this happen?” you whispered to yourself, then shook the thought from your head. You growled in frustration and was quickly pissed that this came back into your life. There was no concrete evidence that the haunting was related to Carly’s disappearance other than timing, but the haunting that had been going on at the Inn was enough to open your eyes to all the nasty things that lived in the shadows.

You picked your cell off the desk and just stared at it, contemplating whether you wanted to make the call that you should make. It would uproot everything in your life now, but this… this was too important. This case, this is the one that turned your life upside down in the first place. Why should it have any different effects, now?

It had to be different. YOU were different. A different life, a different job, different lover… A quick burst of anger made you slam the case file close, then finally do what you knew was the right thing to do.

With a heavy sigh, you dialed the number you still knew by heart. It rang for a while; when the voicemail picked up and you heard his voice again, you weren’t sure if you’d be able to leave a message.

_“This is Dean’s other, other cell, so you must know what to do.”_

**_BEEEP_ **

“You got a lot of nerve sending me this, Winchester. Lot of fucking nerve. Stop trying to rope me back in. I’m out. Period.”

You ended the call and could feel yourself shaking. Gathering all the papers, you stuffed them haphazardly into the manila envelope, then into the original mailing envelope. Going right for the shredder, you turned it on and hovered the envelope over the spinning blades. 

That’s when you were hit with the memory. Not just one, but a collection of them. 

The first time you saw a spirit… the first time you met Dean… the long days on the road with him and Sam… the longer nights spent in Dean’s bed. Hundreds of cases, thousands of miles… all for you to just walk away outside of some shithole diner swearing you would never look back.

Absently, you switched off the shredder and leaned against the corner of the desk. You pinched the bridge of your nose between your fingers, and despite knowing what it would cost you, you knew you couldn’t simply pretend like you hadn’t seen the file. 

It was so late by the time Raylin came home, she missed dinner, and never called; a tell-tale sign of a temper tantrum. You sat at the table waiting for her, watching the pasta grow cold and absently shoving it around your plate with a fork. Eventually, you cleaned up, left her a covered plate in the fridge and went to bed. 

It was around one in the morning when you heard her slip into your shared bedroom and into bed. She wrapped an arm around your waist and nuzzled her face into your neck.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I hope you can forgive me for being so harsh this morning.”

Still wide awake, you rolled over and propped yourself up on one elbow. 

“Don’t apologize,” you said with a wan smile. “I’m just going to piss you off all over again.”

Her brow furrowed. “What–how? Why?”

“Because Ray…” you trailed off and let your eyes wander to the suitcase packed and waiting by the door. “I’m leaving for Salem in the morning.”

“What?!” Even in the barely illuminated room, you could see her scowl. She ripped the sheets off her legs and flipped on the bedside lamp before getting up and pacing the room. “You’re going?!”

“Yes. I have to. It’s my responsibility–”

“Bullshit! _I’m_ your responsibility! Me! _US_!”

Slowly, you shook your head. “No. This case… you don’t understand. This one–”

She put her hands up to stop you. “Don’t. I don’t care! You promised me when you moved in, that part of your life was over. That HE wasn’t in your life anymore.”

“He isn’t. I’m going alone, this has nothing to do with Dean.”

“Bullshit. You want to see him, don’t you?!” Raylin was seething with anger, continuing to pace back and forth, her small hands clenching in and out of fists.

“No,” you replied calmly, knowing that engaging her with anything but wouldn’t do anything except continue to perpetuate a fight.

“I don’t believe you. The evidence I’ve been collecting says otherwise.”

“Don’t lawyer me, Raylin.” 

“Don’t bullshit me, Y/N. You know what, fine. If you’re gone in the morning, don’t bother coming back. I’m sleeping in the guest room. ”

Raylin turned to leave, slammed the bedroom door and stamped down the hallway to the guest room; slamming that one as well. You fell back onto the bed, knowing there would be no sleep for you that night. Instead of attempting the fruitless effort, you reluctantly got up from the bed and got dressed, and quietly left the apartment with your suitcase in tow.

Making the overnight drive to Salem didn’t take as long as you thought it would. You wouldn’t be able to check into the hotel until later, so you decided to stop at the only diner on the way into town for some much-needed caffeine and maybe a short stack of pancakes. 

Once you were sat at the table and placed your order, you pulled out the case file, along with the original one from years before and placed them side by side. Somewhere in the mess of notes and clippings, there was a link and you just needed to find it. 

The waitress delivered your coffee promptly, but as you were waiting for your pancakes, you felt a shadow looming over your shoulder. Assuming it was the server, you pushed your cup to the edge and asked for a refill without looking up. 

“Could you top that off for me, doll?” you asked, while intently reading a newspaper clipping from fifteen years before. 

“I could, but it’ll cost ya.”

It was not your server, but that voice… you’d know Dean’s voice anywhere. Slowly, you turned your head up to see him standing there. He hadn’t aged a bit in five years, but still wore the same flannel and canvas jacket he always had. When you met his eyes, he flashed a charming smirk and motioned towards the booth seat across from you.

“This seat taken?” he asked and then slipped into it before you could answer. 

“What the fuck are you doing here Dean? How did you know–”

“That you would be here?”

You nodded. 

“Because I know you. No way you’d pass this up, even after leaving me that voicemail.”

The waitress delivered your food and asked if you wanted more coffee. When she saw Dean had joined you, she asked if he wanted anything. 

“I’ll have a short stack, too. Also a cup of coffee and a side of bacon, please,” he said with a smile. She noticeably blushed and scurried off to put in his order. 

“I mean, how did you know I’d be at this diner… smart ass.”

“Oh, well, that’s easy. It’s the only place open with decent coffee. I’ve been watching the place, waiting for you.”

“You were that sure I’d come?” you asked with a snort of annoyance. “You think you’re so smart.”

“You’re here, aren’t you?”

“Don’t be smug, it doesn’t look good on you.”

“Oh, sweetheart, everything looks good on me,” Dean leaned in and said with a wink. You knew he was baiting you, he always did. But you refused to let him get under your skin. 

“Jesus…” you groaned and rolled your eyes. “Those kinds of lines actually working for you?”

“I haven’t heard any complaints.”

Deciding to ignore his cocky demeanor, you dove into the short stack and drank the rest of your coffee just as the waitress returned with Dean’s cup and to freshen yours. The moment she was gone, Dean pulled the old case file from under your arm and began to look through it. 

“I can’t believe you still have this,” he chuckled and sat back in the booth. “It’s been, what… ten–”

“Fifteen,” you interrupted and tended to fixing your coffee.

“Fifteen years, and you still have this. Tell me again how you’ve put hunting behind you.”

“I’ve put hunting behind me,” you replied nonchalantly, taking a big bite of your pancakes and chewing methodically. 

“Yeah, okay,” he paused and took a drink of the piping hot coffee. He winced at the temperature and set it back down before grabbing your gaze and holding it. “In all honesty, I only sent you the file because I thought you’d want to know.”

You wiped your mouth with the napkin beside you, then leaned forward on the table, a smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth. Dean followed your lead, leaning forward with an excited gleam in his eyes. 

“You’re full of shit, Winchester. Now, you wanna feed me the truth?”

“God, you are still just as frustrating as you were back then. I can see civilian life has had zero chill effect on you, huh?”

“Bite me, okay? I am here only because of that case…” you trailed off, a sick feeling turning your stomach which now made the pancakes a complete waste. 

“I know,” he said, his tone low and more serious than you were used to. “When Sam got wind of it again, I knew I had to tell you.”

This time when you met his eyes, the excitement was gone, as was the cocky asshole you were used to. Now, they were darker, more burdened, and seeing Dean like that threw you off. 

“Is Sam in town, too?”

“No, he’s off with our friend Jody doing his own thing right now.”

“Oh.. So, it’s just me and you, huh? That seems like a great partnership,” you sighed and sat back, pushing the plate of pancakes towards the middle of the table just as the waitress came to deliver Dean’s order.

“Not hungry, sug?” she asked, concerned. “They alright for ya?”

“Oh yeah, they’re great. I just lost my appetite. Can I take them to go, please?”

Twenty minutes later, you and Dean were outside of the diner as the sun finally made it ascent into the sky. The sight of Dean’s old Impala made your heart swell, and the memories that came along with it, made you feel very nostalgic for those old days. 

“She looks good,” you said, motioning towards the car.

“Well, treat a girl right and she sticks around for a long time,” he laughed, then realized what he said could be applied to your relationship with his as well. “I just mean–”

“It’s fine, I know what you mean. It’s true though. Treat a girl right, and she could be yours forever,” you sighed and your mind flashed to Raylin. She would be waking up about now if she had even slept at all and you couldn’t help but wonder if she was really going to change the locks on you over this.

Dean got quiet, and nervously kicked a bit of the gravel of the parking lot with his boot before looking back up at you. “Is that what happened… the reason you left? I didn’t treat you right?”

“Dean, please. Not now. I just want to get this case figured out so I can make an attempt to get my life back.”

You could tell he wanted to ask questions, but despite what you wanted to believe, Dean knew you well enough to know it wasn’t the time.

“Alright, let’s head over there,” he said. “How do you wanna play this?”

“Well, since my fake FBI badges were shredded, I’m guessing that’s not the best way. I was just going to check in as a guest and start there. Keyword in that reply, Dean.. is I. Not we. _Me_. I’m going alone. You can go back to wherever you were.”

“Whoa, whoa. You are not going alone. You’ve been out of the game for a long time. No way I’m letting you hunt alone.”

“Letting me?” you asked with a laugh. “Dean, you have zero say over what I do. You sent me the case file. I’m going to take care of it. You can go.”

“No can do, sweetheart, I–”

“Call me sweetheart again, I dare you.” You shot daggers at him, and despite the lingering feelings for the eldest Winchester, you refused to let him steamroll you. 

“Fine. Y/N… you’re not going at this alone, period. So, you can either throw your crap in the car and let’s go, or I can ghost your ass for the duration of the hunt and just piss you off more. I’m thinking, the first option is the best option. Besides, one more case, for old time’s sake?”

You knew he was right. You were rusty as Hell, and with no idea where to start, a partner would be ideal. But why did it have to be the one man that, no matter what, would always have a hold over you…

You rolled your eyes and sighed. “God I hate you…” you mumbled. “Alright, fine. But I can’t just leave my car here. So, let me find a place to stash her and we’ll do it your way.”

“That’s my girl,” he chuckled with a satisfied smirk and a raise of his brow.

“If we’re going to do this, let’s get two things straight… One. I am not ‘your girl’ and haven’t been for a long time. Two, I have been engaged for more than six months now. Three, don’t think for one second I am sharing a room with you. I’m getting my own room and going in as a travel blogger. I mean, the more truth the better, right? You, do what you want.”

“Engaged?” he scoffed, his eyes darting down to your left ring finger. “Yeah? Where’s the ring?”

“I left it at home,” you lied. The truth was, there was no ring yet. Raylin had asked you to marry her on a whim while out shopping one day. No grand proposal. No big declarations of love. And still, no ring.

“Oookay,” he chuckled. Dean nodded and pushed out his lips in a knowing, smirky pout. “Sure thing, Y/N, whatever you say. Come on, let’s ditch the city wheels over there and get to work.”

The old hotel looked exactly the same as it had fifteen years earlier. Despite a fresh coat of paint, and new staff uniforms, you felt like you were a kid again working there and had flashbacks to pushing your housekeeping cart down the ancient hallways. 

The moment you stepped foot inside, all those memories came rushing back, knocking you over like a tidal wave and rendering you nearly speechless. You froze in the lobby, and when Dean caught up to you, he paused and waited for you to come out of the fog of nostalgia. 

“You alright?” he asked quietly, adjust the bag he had slung over his shoulder. 

You nodded and suddenly felt grateful he was with you, though you’d rather die first then tell him that. “Yeah, let’s get this over with.”

Approaching the front desk, you were once again hit by flashes from years before. Dean could sense your hesitancy and engaged the desk clerk before you could. And he did so with an impish, rueful smile. 

“Hi there,” he said getting the clerk’s attention and taking a moment to read her name off her tag. “Brenda, hi, nice to meet you… I was hoping you can help us out. Any chance you a room available? We don’t have a reservation, and I know it’s last minute, but the little missus and I are just anxious to get our honeymoon started and this place looks just divine to make memories in.”

What he said snapped you out of your fog and you turned slowly to glare at him incredulously. He was wearing a larger than life smile, and beaming down at you then back at Brenda. Before you could say anything, he put an arm around your shoulder and pulled you in close and giving you a tight squeeze before kissing your temple. 

“Aw, well aren’t you two the cutest! You know, I just happen to have the honeymoon suite available! How does the ‘Rebecca Nurse Suite’ sound? You basically get the whole third floor all to yourself, along with a fireplace and a full private bath!” she revealed, overly excited and smiling from ear to ear.

“That sounds amazing, Brenda, thank you so much. How’s that sound, honey?” he asked as he turned to you, both his eyes and his expression silently begging you just to play along.

Knowing, and hating, the fact that you knew it was just best to go with his game until you were alone again, you forced your best smile and nodded. “Sounds perfect.”

“Great! Why don’tcha just go ahead and fill this out, we still do forms the old fashioned way here at the Morning Glory Inn. Then I just need a credit card to put on file and I can get ya your key!”

Dean went to reach for his wallet, but you put a hand over his. “I got this,” you said softly and reached into your purse to retrieve your wallet. You pulled out the credit card you shared with Raylin and placed it down on the counter.

“Fantastic, thank you so much!” Brenda was far too chipper and you couldn’t wait to get the hell out of the lobby and up to the room.

You snatched the form and pen from Dean and filled in all the necessary information making sure it all matched the information from the credit card. Once you were done, you pushed it back towards Brenda, but not before Dean got a look at the name on there. You could feel his eyes on you but did your best to ignore him until Brenda was passing your key over the counter.

“Okey dokey! You love birds are all set! Take the stairs, sorry, no elevator here, up to the third floor and make a right. Your room is number 12 at the end of the hall. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to give me a buzz!”

“Thank you, Brenda, I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

You grabbed the key and headed off towards the stairs with Dean following closely behind.

“Whoa,” Dean mused upon walking into the room. “I don’t remember it being this nice last time.”

“It wasn’t. They must have renovated over the years. Maybe it’s what kicked up another haunting,” you said, tossing the key on the dresser and casually walking around the room. “Dibs on the bed, by the way.”

“Uh, no. Sorry. That, we share. If you think I’m sleeping in one of these chairs, you’re sadly mistaken.”

“If you think I’m sharing a bed with you…” you shrugged nonchalantly and trailed off.

Dean’s smug smile made you want to smack him and yet, still was able to stir those old feelings back up. Refusing to ever give him the satisfaction of knowing he could, you ignored him and plopped your bag on the bed. 

“Dibs is dibs, Winchester. Deal with it. The floor in front of the fireplace looks comfy. I’ll throw you a pillow, you know, for old time’s sake.”

He read your expression and knew immediately that you were purposefully being spiteful; it was one of your tendencies when you felt unnerved and you hated that he knew you so deeply. Dean moved slowly across the room, nodding to himself, ever so slightly, as if agreeing to a silent conversation that was taking place in his mind. 

“Y/N,” he said, now so close to invading your personal space, “dibs is bullshit and you know it. So, what… are you afraid to share the bed with me? Hm? Don’t think your fiance will approve?”

“No, I don’t think she will,” you replied simply, dying to turn and see his expression, but did your best to resist.

Dean stammered and stuttered, finally coming around to find the words he needed. “She? You’re… a woman?” 

“Yes Dean, I am a woman. I thought you of all people should remember that.”

“No.. you know what, forget it. I was just surprised, that’s all.”

“Why? I never made it a secret that dated women, too.”

“I know. I just… I mean you being engaged, alone, is trippy. I just can’t picture it.”

“Good. Don’t. It doesn’t concern you,” you snapped at him more harshly than you meant too. 

“Why are you so angry? If you didn’t want to come, you shouldn’t have come.”

“How could I not!? This all started because my sister disappeared, remember? Went to bring the laundry to the basement and never came back. Then, a week later you and the rest of the Scooby gang show up and tell me that the place is haunted. Yeah, okay, it is… and all that I went through helping you guys… there was STILL no sign of Carly or her body!”

Dean’s face softened at the mention of your sister’s name. “I know, Y/N, and I know how long that’s haunted you for. It’s why I sent you the file.” He paused and then took a few hesitant steps towards you, but left his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his jacket. “I don’t have any answers for you. Not yet, anyway. All joking aside, all our history aside, I thought you’d want a second chance at this one. That’s why I sent it to you. The only reason I came was to be sure you didn’t try and do it alone.”

You felt your body relax a little and was happy to see that he didn’t hold your snarky attitude against you. The pull to throw yourself into his arms, and have them wrap around you was stronger than anything else in that moment, even more than the urge to find something about Carly, but you didn’t. You resisted the feeling of being around Dean again and turned to sit on the edge of the bed. Closing your eyes and breathing slowly through your nose, you weren’t exactly shocked when you felt the mattress dip beside you with Dean’s weight. 

“We’ll figure it out, okay?” he rasped, then without thinking, unfurled an arm over the back of your shoulders and pushed you closer, your head coming to rest on his arm. 

Any lingering thoughts of Raylin were pushed away the moment the familiar scent of Dean’s soap touched your senses. It was faint, but it was there. Your lids fluttered closed and your mind’s eye wanted to transport you back in time, to some far away motel room… Seattle, maybe? Or was it Eugene? It was raining, that much you could remember, and the motel room smelled of whiskey and pizza…

The sudden sound of running water stopped the memory cold, making you lift your head from Dean’s shoulder and catch his gaze with a curious shrug. 

“What the hell?” you mumbled. 

You and Dean got up from the bed at the same time, but instinct took over and he stepped protectively in front of you. As you inched closer towards the door to the private bath, Dean took a moment, then slowly pushed it open, unsure of what would be found there. As the old wooden door slowly swung on its hinges with a creak, you and Dean both inhaled sharply when you saw the sink’s faucet gushing with hot water, so much so that steam had already engulfed the bathroom mirror. You felt your gut tighten as lines began to form across the glass. 

Goosebumps rippled up your arm as the first few lines formed into an “H”, then, an “E”. Just as the long line, of what you could only presume was going to be an “L”, started taking shape, the faucet stopped, as did the ghostly graffiti. 

Dean leaned back against the door, and when he turned to you, you just shrugged. 

“I guess we have another haunting on our hands, huh?” 

“Seems that way,” he sighed and cleared his throat before pushing off the door and heading straight for his duffle bag. 

Dean picked it up effortless and tossed it onto the bed. After rooting around it for a minute, he pulled out the small salt shakers he kept on hand, along with two, long and thick iron railroad ties. 

“Here,” he said handing them in your direction. “Downsized a bit so as not to attract attention, but seems like having some iron and salt on hand may be a good idea.”

“Seems that way,” you replied, repeating his words back and making him smirk.

“Welcome back to the life, sweetheart.”


End file.
